


Modern Timor Mortis

by 221squee



Category: 16th Century Literature, DUNBAR William-Works, Lament for the Makaris
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6415870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221squee/pseuds/221squee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes the soldier from the battle,<br/>And takes the baby with his rattle.<br/>All men have his equality.<br/>Timor mortis conturbat me.</p><p>This is an update of William Dunbar's Lament for the Makaris, which can be read here:  http://d.lib.rochester.edu/teams/publication/conlee-dunbar-complete-works  I thought I would make the stanzas rhyme in English as it is currently spoken, and after David Bowie died, I decided I would put modern musicians into the poem in place of Dunbar's list of makaris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I that was in health and gladness  
Am troubled now with great sickness,  
Enfeebled with infirmity.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Our pleasure here is all vainglory.  
This false world is but transitory.  
Our mortal flesh is vanity.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

The state of man does change and vary-  
Now sound, now sick, now blithe and merry,  
Now at the last extremity.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

No foot on earth stands there secure.  
The world is but a fiendish lure  
Of which we too soon shall be free.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Down unto death go all estates-  
Princes, prelates, and potestates;  
Both rich and poor of all degree  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

He takes the knights from off the field  
Though they be armed with helm and shield.  
Victor of every war is he.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

He takes the soldier from the battle,  
And takes the baby with his rattle.  
All men have his equality.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

He parts the brave man from his sword,  
He takes the liegeman from his lord,  
He parts the lady from her beauty.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

No king can turn his hand away,  
Nor lawyer grant himself a stay.  
His awful stroke may no man flee.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

The chemists and astronomers,  
Theologians and philosophers,  
Their wit saves not from injury.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

The famous doctor and the surgeon,  
Not one can keep off his incursion,  
Nor nurse nor humble orderly.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Man's words do not outlast the wave  
As they sink under, to the grave,  
Spared not by all their faculty.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.


	2. Chapter 2

Jimi Hendrix, poured out like sand,  
He's taken to his quiet land,  
And ate up Freddie Mercury.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Joplin and Jim Morrison,  
Lennon and George Harrison,  
He's taken out of their country.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Of Robert Johnson, we are bereft,  
And Kurt Cobain has not been left,  
Keith Moon, now tell me, where is he?  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

He knows the land, the sea, the sky;  
Karen Carpenter could not fly.  
And close to him now is she.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

His hand will reach to every height  
Who has not heard of the plight  
Of the Gainses and Van Zant, all three.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Waylon Jennings's few years more  
Led him, too, through that same door  
As Richardson, Valens, and Holly.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Selena and Aaliyah rest,  
With Left-Eye now, upon his breast,  
That tongue now stopped which once sped she.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Judy Garland's to us lost  
And has now that river crossed  
Of which she sang so prettily.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Michael Jackson's silver glove  
No more waves and tells us of  
His songs of love and tragedy.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

He shall lay waste to every heart.  
Johnny Cash had felt his dart  
And dressed himself most fittingly.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

And he has taken, last of all,  
The man from space into his hall,  
And now he has David Bowie.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

My brothers now are all his own.  
He will not let me live alone.  
Of course I must his next prey be.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.

Like these great men who went before,  
We shall shortly be no more.  
Let us think on mortality.  
Timor mortis conturbat me.


End file.
